As it turned out, Marius and Cosette's new life in England was hardly as magical as they had expected.
They arrived in Plymoth, tired, dirty and disoriented. Cosette, who had developed a bad cough on the journey over, was hacking rather badly, her condition aggravated by the nasty, smoky air at the docks. Marius was chiefly concerned with getting her out of the gray drizzle, and into a warm bed. But they didn't have any English money with which to pay for a guest house, and Cosette staunchly maintained that she was perfectly alright.
And so, Marius at last agreed to let her come with him as he searched for a job. First of all, they went to the Admiralty, hoping that Marius' language skills might allow him to be of interest to the Navy. A prim-nosed maid showed them into a hall, ordering them, in tight, clipped tones that Marius had to strain to understand, to sit down. As the maid retreated, Cosette turned to Marius, her eyes wide with confusion.
"Marius - what was that lady saying? I couldn't understand her at all."
Smiling wearily, Marius replied, "She told us that someone would be with us in a few minutes, and to sit down."
Cosette wasted no time in perching herself on a bench, and looking around at the many portraits hanging on the wall. She was particularly taken by a portrait of a good-looking, one-armed man in military dress. Turning to Marius beside her, she asked, "Who is that gentleman there?"
Marius took a few minutes to respond. As she noted his white face and tight lips, Cosette wondered if she had asked something wrong. At last, Marius, his voice slightly more curt than normal, replied.
"That's Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson. He fought Napoleon at Trafalgar."
Cosette wasn't altogether sure what Marius was talking about, but the scowl on his face as he glared at the portrait made her think that Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson, whoever he was, must be a very wicked man indeed.
She fell silent, blushing slightly. Marius suddenly got to his feet, and she followed suit, uncertain of why they were doing so. The reason suddenly came into her field of view, as a handsome young man in naval uniform became striding purposefully into the room.
"Lieutenant Edward Kennedy, at your service." He bowed slightly to Marius and then again, more deeply, to Cosette.
Marius inclined his head in reply, evidently not too enamoured of the younger, more confident man, with his form-fitting, pressed uniform and perfectly arranged hair.
Cosette, on the other hand, saw no reason to dislike the man, and curtsied back. Her and Kennedy's eyes met for a moment, until Marius coughed delicately. Kennedy pulled his gaze away from Cosette, and refocused on Marius, who was now speaking in stilted, accented English.
"Sir, I have come to inquire - "
Kennedy smoothly interrupted him. He evidently had surmised Marius' discomfort in speaking English, and so spoke in perfectly decent French. Cosette, delighted to hear her language spoken by someone other than Marius, listened with interest.
"Monsieur, I have been apprised of the reason for your visit, and I have been asked by my superiors to inform you that we currently have no place for you. Alas, your French citizenship makes you an unlikely candidate for a future post, either. They encourage you to attempt to find employment in another field - education, perhaps."
Marius looked slightly panicked.
"Please, Monsieur, I am willing to work at anything. Do you have any ideas as to where I might turn? My wife is ill, and I need to provide for her."
Kennedy, looking thoughtful, turned to Cosette.
"My dear lady...no-one can feel more sympathy for your situation than I. I assure you of my deepest good faith."
Cosette nodded - his smooth, assured way of speaking left her feelign slightly breathless and flustered. He continued.
"I believe I may know of a possible post for Monsieur."
Cosette smiled, her eyes full of hope.
"Oh, Lieutenant Kennedy, if you gave my Marius a way to find a job, I could never thank you enough!"
"I assure you, Mademoiselle, the pleasure would be all mine."
He bowed again, kissing her hand. Marius, who had watched this interchange with barely supressed fury, at last interceded.
"Please, do my wife the courtesy of calling her "Madame"."
Kennedy laughed, showing off sharp, white teeth.
"I assure you, monsieur, I accord this lovely lady al the respect and courtesy in the world. "Mademoiselle" is her correct title. She's no more your wife than she is mine."
Marius started to protest, but Kennedy interrupted.
"The lack of a wedding ring is really most revealing, Monsieur. But do not worry: your secret is safe with me. I swear on my honour as an officer of His Majesty's Navy, that I will not breathe a word to your new employers."
Marius seemed incapable of responding, so Cosette did instead.
"Please, Leiutenant Kennedy, Marius' "new employers"?"
"Ah, yes, of course, I was getting ahead of myself. I have a cousin who is a wealthy shipping merchant - a Mr. Warwick. He and his wife is looking for a French tutor for his two sons, Albert, age 8, and George, age 6. I believe the post pays ₤75 a year...Monsieur, here, is exactly what my cousin is looking for in a tutor."
Cosette was delight, Taking Marius' arm, she was hurt slightly as he gripped her rather tighter than strictly necessary. But she hardly even cared.
"Oh, Lieutenant Kennedy, that would be absolutely perfect. The post is here in Plymouth, then?"
Kennedy answered in the affirmative. "I'll give you the address, and a letter of recommendation, if you like. I'm sure my cousin will be more than pleased to employ you on the spot, not to mention assist you in finding appropriate lodgings - if, of course, that would be acceptable to Monsieur?"
He turned questioningly to Marius, who's jaw was drawn tightly.
"More than acceptable, I should think."
Kennedy looked amused, for some unfathomable reason. "Oh, excellent, then. If you could just wait a few more moments - I'll go and write that letter."
With another low bow to Cosette, and a shallow nod to Marius, Kennedy disappeared. As soon as he was fairly out the door, Cosette turned excitedly to Marius.
"Oh, love, can you believe it? ₤75 a year - only, I do not know how pounds compare to francs, but we can live off of that, surely?"
Marius, still looking disgruntled, relaxed his brow slightly, and smiled. Whatever he thought of Lieutenant Edward Kennedy and his stupid perfect uniforms - whether the gentleman had made the offer more out of concern for Cosette than out of human decency - the man had, undoubtedly, done them a kindness.
"I still haven't gotten the job yet, love, don't be getting ahead of yourself. But if it is true...I - I can hardly believe our good luck. ₤75 is enough for us to live off of - only, we won't be able to move to the country like we wanted. We'll have to live here in Plymouth."
Cosette, her eyes bright, laughed.
"I hardly mind that. We can still get a nice apartment, and you can go to work in the mornings, and I can go to the bakery and the markets every day, and we'll still be perfectly happy, won't we?"
There, her excited chatter came to a sudden end, as she started to cough violently. Marius made a move to go to her, to hold her hand - but before he could do so, Kennedy came striding back into the room, bearing a sealed letter. At the sight of him, Cosette made an effort to control her coughing, as he handed her the letter.
"There, my dear. You and your - eh - gentleman friend, take this to Number 9, Saint-John's Way. I promise you, you won't be denied assistance. My cousin and his wife - they're very good, generous people. You'll be alright."
Cosette grasped his hand in thanks.
"Lieutenant - if there's ever anything Marius or I can do for you in return -"
"Please, now, Mademoiselle - the only thanks or restitution I need is the sight of your bonny face. Which I hope to see again - perhaps, once you are settled, I could come and visit you?"
Cosette smiled uncertainly, and half-turned to Marius, waiting for his opinion. He was, in turn, boiling with hardly surpressed jealousy and rage. That that ignorant English buffoon would waltz in, flirt with his Cosette, and then attempt to take her from him - it was unthinkable. He reached out, took the letter from Cosette's hand, and stowed it in his jacket pocket.
"Yes, well, Monsieur, I expect we will be rather busy for some time to come."
With that, he nodded to Kennedy, who was struggling to control a grin, and beckoned to Cosette, before stalking angrily out of the room.
Cosette did not immediately turn to go with him. She was angry at him, yes, and hurt at his own anger at her having made a friend. Did he trust her so little? Was he going to be even more over-protective than her father? That is - had Cosette traded one prison for another?
At that rebellious thought, Cosette shook her head a little, ashamed. Marius adored her, and she him - she would not have come this far with him unless she was sure of that fact. And her father, protective though he was, loved her more than life itself. But - no. She could not allow herself to think of that. So, instead, Cosette deliberately turned to Kennedy, her face animated by an enchanting smile.
"Monsieur - after what you have done for my Marius - you are more than welcome to call on us whenever you like. I would be honoured to receive you."
Kennedy grinned boyishly, making Cosette blush.
"If you would like me to, Mademoiselle - hell itself could not stop me from coming."
He paused for a moment.
"Now, as soon as you find yourself a flat or a room - send me a note here, at the Admiralty, with your address. I will come to you, as soon as humanly possible. Would that be acceptable?"
Cosette nodded, not trusting her voice. Kennedy smiled again, more gently, and Cosette was again struck at how nice his teeth were.
At just that moment, Marius, looking seriously annoyed, poked his head back into the room.
"Please, Cosette?"
Cosette flushed and, with a final look back at Kennedy, she followed Marius back into the street. As soon as they were out of sight of the Admiralty, Marius pulled her aside.
"Now, Cosette. You can't behave to people like you did back there. These English, they aren't like the French. They have no class, no propriety. You must be careful, no?"
Cosette's first instinct was defiance - who was Marius to tell her how to behave? But the sight of his face, looking so annoyed and frustrated, rapidly quelled any rebellion within her, and tears sprung to her eyes. She and Marius weren't even married yet - and he had already found fault with her.
"I'm sorry, love. But...I didn't do anything that I regret, or that I wouldn't do again."
At the heart-breaking sight of Cosette trying to check her tears, Marius relented, with a sigh.
"No, Cosette, it is I who should be sorry. I was a perfect pig back there. I'm sorry. But, oh, please, don't cry. I can bear anything but that."
Cosette wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Marius' voice was lower and throatier when he next spoke. "Now, my darling - how about we go and see these Warwicks? And then, once it's done...why don't we get married?"
Cosette's head jerked up, and she looked at him in bewilderment.
"Why not, Cosette? There's nothing to delay for, and I don't know about you, but I can't wait another day to make you a Pontmercy."
Cosette's shocked look remained for a few seconds longer, and Marius privately wondered if she was starting to have doubts. But then, she began to smile.
"That would be absolutely...lovely, my dear. But don't we need to make arrangements in advance?"
"No, I expect we can simply ask a reverend to do it. We won't be married in the Catholic Church, I suppose - but I don't care much about that. You don't, do you, darling? All I care about is being able to call you mine."
On impulse, he reached in, and gave Cosette a kiss, not so chaste or short as their ones in Rue Plumet. By the time they broke apart, Cosette was blushing, and breathing rapidly.
Marius suddenly became conscious that they were attracting a large number of pedestrians, all of whom were staring at them, particularly Cosette, in vulgarly unabashed interest.
"Come, love - let's go and talk to the Warwicks, and then we'll..."
Marius did not finish his sentence, as Cosette silenced him with another kiss. When it was over, taking her by the arm, and feeling perfectly at peace with the world, Marius set off down the street in search of his new employers.
As it turned out, Lieutenant Kennedy was correct - Mr. and Mrs. Warwick were more than happy to employ Marius as their tutor. Mr. Warwick said that Marius was young enough to be a friend to their sons, and yet old enough to command respect - that was all he cared about. Mrs. Warwick was more intellectually inclined, and found herself impressed with Marius' language skills. Within half an hour of their arrival at Number 19, Saint-John's Way, Marius' services as a tutor were engaged for a full year, with opportunity for a renewal of contract beyond that. And so, Marius and Cosette were soon on their way, their hearts light, and their pockets weighted down with the advance on Marius' first week of salary.
They decided, to celebrate their good luck, to stop off for lunch at a pub. Marius had explained to Cosette that a pub was the closest English equivalent to a cafe - and so, Cosette mentally prepared herself for a small room, full of students smoking and drinking. The reality of the pub couldn't be more different from her mental image - a large, dingy room, full of sullen dock workers sitting at the bar, and consuming seemingly vast quantities of ale and beer.
Normally, Cosette would have felt deeply unsafe in such an environment - but with Marius' hand on hers, she could not have felt more at peace. Although the meal was sparse, and the food unpleasant, Cosette hardly even cared. She and Marius were to be married at long last - that is all that mattered to her.
At last, the meal ended, and they set out again, in search of the church this time. They found one relatively quickly and, after Marius talked with the reverend for a few minutes, were there married in the eyes of the Protestant church. Cosette didn't understand a word of the ceremony as spoken by the reverend, but Marius translated bits and pieces for her. It didn't take long - less than an hour - and, when it was over, Marius and Cosette kissed again, thanked the reverend profusely, and then left, in search of lodgings.
After that first night in a guest house, Marius and Cosette moved into a grungy little apartment, barely large enough for the two of them. But, it was the only place they could afford that was close enough to the Warwicks' - and they did not mind, at first. But soon, life started to settle into a normal pattern - and, before much longer, the seeds of discontentment began to be planted in Cosette's head.
Marius left each morning by eight o'clock, and was rarely ever home before seven o'clock in the evening. This left Cosette alone all day, every day. And when Marius was at home, on Sundays and after work, he was always so exhausted that he paid her very little attention. Cosette tried hard not to complain - only, it was very difficult. She did not even have the comfort of being able to converse and interact with her neighbours - her English, although improving, still left a lot to be desired.
It was in a moment of deep loneliness and depression, then, that she, one day some weeks after her marriage, wrote a note to Lieutenant Kennedy. She asked for him to come and visit, whenever convenient for him - and was surprised when he showed up on their doorstep at noon the very next day. Marius was away, of course, but Cosette invited him in nonetheless and, to her surprise, found herself enjoying Kennedy's company even more than she thought she would. Not only was she simply relieved to have someone to talk to in her native language, but Kennedy was amusing and witty, and only too happy to have someone as pretty and charming as Cosette as an attentive audience.
At the end of the visit, Cosette asked Kennedy back a second time - and he did. And a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth, and a sixth, until he no longer needed to be invited back at the end of each visit. It was a standing invitation and, before long, he was coming over to their little flat to see Cosette, alone, two or three times a week.
Marius emphatically disapproved of Cosette's budding friendship with the young Lieutenant, and had, on occasion, voiced his displeasure on the matter. Cosette refused to acquiesce - Kennedy was her friend, she claimed, and there was no reason for Marius to be angry about it. Marius planned to, one day, lay down the law where Edward Kennedy was concerned - but, until he summoned the mental strength for that, he decided to let it pass.
That is, until one day some months later. Mr. Warwick had barged in on the middle of the French lesson, and had, with an imperious jerk of the head, ordered Marius to join him in the study.
Marius, worrying for his employment, followed immediately. He was prepared for any number of things - except for the one that actually occurred. Warwick informed him, in no uncertain terms, of the rumours swirling around Portsmouth regarding Marius' wife's relationship with Lieutenant Kennedy. Warwick would have no scandal tainting his family - Marius must get the situation under control.
Flabbergasted and humiliated, Marius nodded, promised that he would, and left immediately, abandoning the rest of the French lesson. He arrived back at the apartment and, just as he was about to open the door, paused at the sound of a shriek of laughter.
It was Cosette's, of course - he had never heard her sound so merry and carefree, the entire time they had been together. The sound that made him really pause, though, was a lower rumble of laughter joining her higher refrain - definitely a man's.
With that realization, Marius could not contain himself any longer. Bursting into the apartment, he saw Cosette, sitting in front of the fire, holding a ball of yarn, chatting amiably, while Kennedy kneeled in front of her, untangling the yarn, and listening to Cosette's prattle patiently. The image was so peculiarly intimate and domestic, that Marius stood there for a moment, his mouth open. Neither occupant of the room noticed him, and instead continued their conversation, entirely oblivious to his presence.
At last, the pain of the scene overcame him, and he coughed loudly. Cosette looked up, her eyes wide, and immediately started stammering something out.
"M-Marius. Why didn't you tell me you'd be home early?"
"Doesn't a man have a right to come home in the middle of the day?"
"O-of course you do, love. But if I'd have known, I wouldn't have..."
"You wouldn't have what, my dear?" Marius' voice was deadly quiet and calm.
Lieutenant Kennedy, carefully depositing the yarn back on the floor, rose to his feet, appearing the very image of calmness and rationality.
"I think Madame means that she would not have invited me over for the English lesson had she known you would be home."
Marius let out a bitter laugh.
"Oh, yes, so that's what you're calling it? I'm away, slaving to provide for you, Cosette, and this is how you repay me? By betraying me?"
"I haven't betrayed you! You're over-reacting!"
"Over-reacting? I'm hardly over-reacting!"
Kennedy, with a final apologetic look at Cosette, took this opportunity to slip out of the room.
"Yes, Marius, you are over-reacting. Edward and I are friends - he's honestly just been helping me with my English."
Marius let out an exasperated sigh.
"Cosette, that's not what everyone is saying. The word going around town is - is..."
Marius hesitated before saying the actual words. Cosette's eyes flashed in anger.
"Is what, Marius? Since when did you care about petty gossip?"
"I don't! But, still, there must be a basis for that gossip!"
Cosette's eyes filled with tears of rage.
"Do you trust me so little, Marius? I love you, Kennedy is my friend. That is all there is."
Marius was silent; Cosette started to cry in earnest.
"Please, Marius. You've shut me out for months now - we've hardly even talked. Don't do this to me now."
"Do you have any idea how hard I work, Cosette? If you gave it a try, perhaps then you'd understand why I'm not all laughter and giggles every night when I come home."
Cosette's eyes widened, as if he had physically slapped her. Without another word, she turned on her heel, and disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door hard behind her.
Throwing herself onto the lumpy bed, Cosette lay there, sobbing, for quite some time. After a few minutes, she heard the front door open and close - Marius must have left. The thought of him abandoning her so made her cry all the harder.
Not for the first time, the thought of her father came to her. His dear, familiar face swam before her eyes and she felt such a wave of overpowering homesickness that she could hardly breathe. What wouldn't she give, to be back home in Paris, a carefree girl again? To wake up in the morning in her four-poster bed in Rue Plumet, to eat drink chocolate with her father, to go walking in the Luxembourg? To practice her piano and sketch a little and sing and dance and garden?
Cosette suddenly heard the front door open again, followed by hesitant footsteps towards the bedroom door. She supposed it must be Marius, come to apologize - and burrowed her face under one of the pillows. She wasn't sure that she could bear the sight of him right now.
The bedroom door opened, and Cosette felt a familiar hand on her shaking shoulders, trying to calm her. She tried to shrug it off, saying,
"No, Marius, go away. I don't want to see you right now!"
The hand didn't move away. At last, Cosette raised her head to inform Marius face-to-face that she couldn't bear his touch.
When she saw who it was, no words came out of her mouth. Cosette's hand flew to her mouth in shock, as she surveyed her visitor. Ultime Fauchelevent, perhaps better known to the reader as Jean Valjean, his eyes full of infinite sorrow, love and hope, stood before her.